What Happens When Max Hits Puberty?
by zombiehuntersapprentice
Summary: Max is twelve, and things start to change . . . big time. Not a one shot. No idea how long this will get.
1. Chapter 1

**What happens when Max needs a few things that Jeb can't buy on the Internet? Or alone? Why? Because he's a guy. You should understand. Max is twelve. Get it now?**

**This is **_**not**_** going to end well.**

Max POV

I woke up in the morning feeling strangely . . . disporportionet. Holy crap. Did I really just use that word? Did I even spell it right? Oh, who the Hell cares? Why am I still asking these questions to myself?

Back to my disporportionetness. My back hurt, and I kept leaning forward for some reason. Look, I don't know why, but I am. Blame the bird genes.

I sighed and pulled a t-shirt out of my drawer. I put it on and frowned. It showed some of my stomach . . . oh, well. I'll just "borrow" one of Fang's. I pulled on my jeans, which were a bit tight in the waist. I stuffed my feet into my worn out tennis shoes that had holes in the toes, but they were comfortable, so I dealed.

I walked out of the room and down the small hall, and slipped into Fang's room. He was still asleep, which was just weird. I shrugged and slid open one of his top drawers. Oopsies. I blushed furiously and closed it, then went down a drawer and it squeaked. I winced.

"What the Hell are you doing?" he asked, sitting up in bed.

"My shirt doesn't fit," I told him truthfully.

He raised an eyebrow. "And this has to do with me how . . . ?"

I sighed and opened the drawer. "I was going to borrow one of yours."

"Oh." He rubbed his eyes with his fists. "I want it back."

Damn. "M'kay," I said and pulled a black shirt out from his drawer. I walked out of Fang's room and into mine, and changed the shirt, not bothering to look down. It fit much better than mine. And I liked that shirt . . .

I sighed again and started to make a pile of dirty clothes. Who knew there would be so many of them after a week? Then again, I went through about five shirts a day because they were stained with either Fang's, Iggy's, Jeb's, or my blood. Rarely mine. Mostly Fang's. He just gets on my nerves sometimes.

After all of my dirty clothes were in a pile, I made my room relatively nice eough. I didn't have a bunch of junk all over my floor, so that counted as clean.

"Max!" Jeb called from the kitchen. "Breakfast is almost ready!"

"M'Kay!" I called back and put all my dirty clothes into a hamper, then exited the room. I walked down the hall and into the living room, and put the hamper down on the couch, next to all the other ones there. Laundry day. Fun.

I walked into the dining/computer room, and ruffled Gazzy's hair. He smiled up at me, but narrowed his eyes, shrugged, and went back to fidling with some wires. Alrighty then . . .

"Mornin', Angel," I said with a smile and kissed my baby's cheek.

"Morning, Max," she said and smiled at me. She threw her arms around my neck and gave me a big hug. I hugged her back, and when she pulled back, she was frowning.

"What's wrong, baby?" I asked her.

"You have something poking through your shirt," she said, and pointed at my chest. I looked down, and sure enough, I had big . . . lumps where my chest was supposed to be.

My eyes widened, and I took a deep breath, still looking at my chest. It only made it bigger.

"Jeb!" Iggy called. "Something's wrong with Max's chest!" How did the blind kid know that? I have no idea.

A loud clang of a pan sounded in the kitchen, and Jeb rushed into the room, and stared at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked Jeb. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Max," Jeb said and went to the computer. He seemed to be having a nervous breakdown. He kept fidling with his hands, and his jaw twitched every two seconds, and his eye kept jumping.

"That's what they always say before-" Iggy started, but Jeb cut him off.

"Iggy!" he snapped.

"Before what?" I asked, rubbing my arms, then crossing them in front of my chest, then repeated the rubbing and crossing.

Iggy widened his eyes and put him plams on the table, and leaned into me. "Before thay kill you."

My eyes widened. "J-Jeb? A-are you g-going to k-kill me?"

Jeb glared at Iggy, which was wasted since he's blind. "No, I'm not going to kill you."

"That's what they always say," Iggy said.

"Iggy," Fang growled. "Enough. She's creeped out."

"She should be," Iggy snapped. "I bet Jeb is gonna get her while she's asleep."

That's when I snapped my fist back and punched him straight in the eye. Most people think its best to hit them in the nose, because it's easy. But it takes real skill to get them right in the eye. He's going to have a black eye for another two to four weeks.

"Ow, Max!" he yelled, covering his eye. "What the Hell? !"

I bolted out of the room, tears threatening to spill out of my eyes.

_I bet Jeb's going to get her while she's asleep. _A tear slid down my cheek, and I ran into my room, and slammed the door behind me. I slid down it and wrapped my arms around my legs, and put my head on my knees.

A few seconds later, a knock came on the door.

"Go away," I said.

"Max," Fang said. "Open the door."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"NO."

"YES."

"GO AWAY!"

"NO. Max, open the door."

"I said no. Did you not hear me?"

He sighed, and I could almost see him running a frustrated hand through his too long hair. "Max . . . Please."

I sucked in a breath. Fang never said please. Ever. Not once in his or my entire life has he ever, ever said please.

Must . . . resist . . . dammit. I opened the door about a centimeter and looked at him. He glared at me. I opened it a little more, and he slipped into the room.

I walked over to my closet and pulled out a hoodie, and slipped it over my head. And guess what? It didn't fit right. I groaned and pulled at the hoodie, until it just touched the waist of my pants.

"Are you ok?" Fang asked.

I sniffed and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I walked over to the bed where Fang was laying, staring at the ceiling. I layed down next to him, and put my head on my shoulder. "Yeah . . . I guess."

"Liar."

"I know."

We stayed in a comfortable silence for a little while, until Fang said, "You know he was just being an ass, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I do now."

We sat in silence for a little while, until someone knoced on my door. Why are they ruining the moment? Wait, what?

"Go away," I muttered, and sank into Fang, which was weird, but comfortable. Like I belonged there.

"Max," Jeb's voice said from the ther side of the door. "Open up."

"No," I said.

"I need to talk to you," he said, sounding annoyed.

"Well talk," I said and Fang put an arm around my shoulder. Weird again, but comforting.

" . . . I need to talk to you without Fang being in there. It's private."

"You said we don't keep secrets in this house, Jeb," I said. Jeb . . . said . . . funny. Maybe I should be a comedian.

"No . . . but this isn't a secret. Fang will learn when he's older."

"Why not tell him now?" I asked. I was mainly doing this just to get on his nerves, but I really didn't want Fang to leave. He was really warm . . . I did _not _just think that.

"Because, Max," Jeb growled.

I looked at Fang, and he shrugged. Thanks for the help . . .

"Whatever, Jeb," I said and walked over to the door. I opened it and glared at the Iggy he held by the scruff of his neck. "You're not bringing _him _are you?"

Jeb sighed. "No. Iggy, apologize."

Iggy mumbled an apology.

"What was that?" I asked him.

"I'm soffy," he said.

"Soffy?" Fang asked behind me, and chuckled. I jumped. He needed to stop doing that . . .

"I'm sorry, happy?" Iggy asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No. But I can't kill you, so I'll take the apology," I growled.

"Now, boys, go . . . fight or something," Jeb said, and patted Iggy on the back. I pushed his shoulders, and he pushed me back. We continued to push each other, until Jeb pulled us apart before I could cause him any more harm. Iggy stomped away, and Fang slipped past me without making a sound.

Jeb walked into the room, and closed the door behind him. Even though I knew Iggy was just being an ass, I made sure I was closet to the window.

He ran a hand through his hair an sat on my bed.

"Out with it," I said.

"Max . . . you need a bra," he said, and he sounded relieved that he could say it.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "A what?"

**Well . . . that's it for now! I'll be updating soon because I really like this idea.**

**JP: *gags***

**Tank: I think I'm gonna be sick . . .**

**Skid: Oh, stop being a bunch of babies!**

**Me: Yeah, it's not that bad!**

**JP: You're not a guy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Most of you are probably questioning my brain usage since I made Max both a) not wear a bra when's she's twelve and b) made her sprout boobs over night. The answer to a is she's a late bloomer and Jeb's too much of a weenie to talk to Max about girl issues until it's absolutely necessarry. And b, she developes quickly because of the bird genes? **

**Tank: *snickers* Didn't really think this through, did ya?**

**Me: Bite me, Tank.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. But I do own boobs, and I sure am a late bloomer.**

**Readers of all ages: Oh, fantastic. We really needed to know you don't have boobage, Sanity.**

**Me: Yeah, you do.**

Max POV

I shuffled into the living room and stood in front of Iggy. I was wearing a pair of Fang's jeans, and a hoodie, and a t-shirt, since Jeb had yet to get me the-thing-that-shall-not-be-named, and my jeans were too small. I don't know why.

"Hey, Igmund," I said.

"Yes, Maximum?" he asked, making eye contact with me. No, that's not weird at all.

"Wanna go train?" I asked, shifting the weight from my left foot to my right, and doing it again.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, standing up. I noticed I was about an inch taller than him. Well. I guess puberty _does _its have advantages. "Since you're a girl now, it wouldn't be fair to you."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Iggy," I said slowly, "I've always been a girl. You do know what makes us different, right?" God, I hope so. If he didn't, this would be a seriously awkward moment.

He glared at me. "I know very well, thank you very much. But since I'm a guy, and you're a girl, it would be unfair to you if we went up against each other. Since girls are weaker than guys, after all."

I leaned in until our noses were almost touching. "Say it again and we'll see who's going to be weaker. Permanently."

I heard a door close, and my eyes flickered to the door way before turning back to my glare at the blind guy.

"See? Fang can settle this," Iggy said and turned to Fang. I turned to him, too, and crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Fang. Now that Max is one hundred percent girl, do you think it's fair if we train together?"

"Yeah, Fang," I asked. "Do you?" So help him if he sides with Iggy.

He hesitated. "Well . . ."

And that's how Iggy and I ended up fighting each other in the back yard, since we sure as Hell couldn't do it in the front, due to the little fact that there was a canyon right there.

Back to the fight. "Take it back!" I yelled, throwing a punch at his gut, which he somehow blocked.

"Never!" he yelled, and threw a punch at my nose. It wasn't hard enough to break it, but hard enough to _hurt. _

"Ow, you jackass!" I yelled and punched his chin, then his stomach. His breath left him in and _oof, _but he sucked in a big one and punched me right. In. My. Boob.

And do you _know _how much that hurts? Do you really? If you're a girl, you understand. If you're a guy, go away.

I sucked it up and kicked him in the stomach again, and this time he stayed down.

"That's what you get for messing with a girl," I said and turned to Fang, who had sided with Iggy in the first place. "You really wanna do this?"

He gulped. "No."

I laced my fingers together and pushed outward, cracking my knuckles.

"Well, that's too bad," I said and charged at him.

Third person POV

Jeb stood in front of the store alone. Well, he wasn't alone, but the people around him staring at him like he was a freak didn't count as company.

Why were they staring at him like he was a freak? Well, he _was _just staring at the window of an underwear store. If you saw a middle aged man standing in front of an underwear store, wouldn't you be creeped out, too?

"Sir?" a woman about thirty said, coming up to Jeb. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You're scaring away the cutomers."

_Especially with the pedo 'stache, _she thought. _Did he just grow that thing to freak anyone with a daughter under eighteen out?_

"I'm sorry," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "My . . . daughter is in need of a . . ." He couldn't get himself to say it. He had secretly hoped that time would just freeze or something, and Max would never need one. But life is too hard for that.

"Bra?" she helped.

Jeb nodded, and looked at her name tag. Betty._ Betty is a nice name, _he thought to himself.

"Um . . ." Betty said, and looked back at the store, where her coworkers were looking at her and the man with the creepy mustache in fascination. "Can you tell me how . . . big your daughter is?" Well this wasn't awkward at _all_.

He put his hand up to about the middle of his neck, and Betty did a pacepalm. Huh. Jeb only thought they did those in books.

"Why don't you just bring your daughter here?" Betty suggested, and turned back to the store without another word.

_Yeah, sure, _Jeb thought. _Then maybe I can get her killed! _

But it's either putting it off, or do it now. Get it over with.

He sighed again and walked around the mall until he got to the exit. He got in his car and drove back to the house, which was a whopping hour and a half away.

What was he expecting? A scene of chirping birds and Max feeding baby deer from the palm of her hand? No. But he _was_ expecting a somewhat peaceful scene, maybe a little rough housing, but _not _full out war between Max and Fang.

He should have known. You leave those two alone for two minutes, and they find something to argue about, from the TV channel, to the color of a box. Well, most of the time anyways. Sometimes they get along swimmingly, and others someone usually ends up with a broken bone or blood coming from some part of their body.

But now? Max and Fang were going at it. Fang had a bloody nose and a black eye, and Max had a black eye. She was whooping his ass from here to the next year.

Jeb hopped out of the car, and raced over to the two, who were giving each other so many bruises it was hard to count.

He pulled Max away from Fang by the hood of her sweatshirt. Max dug her feet into the ground and pulled herself forward. "Let me go so I can _kill him._"

"No," Jeb said and pulled Max back, turned her around, and gave her a gentle shove toawrds the SUV. "Get in the car."

_If that's not pedophilc, I don't know what is, _Max thought to herself and got into the car.

Betty POV

So pedo 'stache guy was back. I thought he would just dissappear. But it turns out the kid really exists.

"Here's my daughter," he said, and put a hand on the figure's shoulder.

_That's a girl? _I thought to myself. She was in a pair of baggy jeans, a baggy black hoodie with the hood up, and a pair of ratty tennis shoes. But she pulled the hood up, and that was definetly the face of a girl, despite the fact that there was bruises all on her face and she had a black eye.

_Does he hit her? Is that why he grew the creepy 'stache? _I asked myself, but smiled brightly on the outside to cover up my worries. "Well. C'mon, then," I said and motioned for the girl to follow me into the younger department.

She hesitated, but followed me deeper into the stoor, her muscles tense.

We stopped in front of one of hose circular things that held bras for girls about her age, and I turned to her.

"Um . . . I'm guessing your dad never told you about girl stuff?" I asked.

She shook her head and I sighed. "Can you tell me how big you are?"

She raised and eyebrow. "What?"

I did a face palm. This will be harder than I thought . . .

About half an hour later, I had gotten her two bras and was looking for one more.

"So . . ." I asked casually, finally wanting to get it off my mind. "Does he hit you?"

She shook her head and grinned. "No. I got in a fight with my brother."

I gasped. "Then why are you smiling?"

Her grin widened. "I won."

**I'm not satisfied with this chapter, but whatever. At least it contained some Iggy ass whooping.**

**Iggy: My gut hurts.**

**Me: My ears hirt from hearing you complain.**

**RnR?**

**- Sanity**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three of Max hitting puberty. She gets . . . **_**her period**_**.**

**All girls alike: Nooooooooooo!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, and neither do you.**

**All authors alike: Nooooooooooo!**

**Skid: *laughs***

When I tried to go to sleep that night, my back _hurt. _To be specific, my lower back.

I couldn't even move without it hurting. I had to stay on my back all night, because it hurt if I was on my stomach. And that was extremely uncomfortable 'cause of the wings.

I probably stayed up until three in the morning, until I finally fell asleep. And then, thanks to that stupid internal alarm clock I had built into me, I woke up at six. So, all in all, I got about three hours of sleep.

When I sat up in bed, my back hurt again. I sighed and walked over to the mirror I had on my dresser. I lifted my shirt up and looked at my back. Well that's weird . . . no bruises from fighting with Fang and Iggy yesterday. I didn't pull anything . . .

I sighed and put some jeans and a new t-shirt on. It fit much better than my old ones. I liked my old ones. Soft, worn, and blood stained. These, on the other hand, were itchy, stiff, and sparkiling clean. Can any one say annoying?

I leaned down to pick up a shirt, and my back hurt _bad. _Like an old man. I stood up and decided I mightas well wait until my back stopped hurting to pick up the mess that was in my room. I go through a lot of things in one day, alright?

I sighed and exited my room. While walking down the hall, I got terrible cramps in my side. The hurt worse than my back did.

I fell forward, my hand gripping my side. Damn it hurt. More than when Iggy punched me in the boob. And that hurt.

I managed to suck it up and walk into the living room, and flopped down on the couch. Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel sat in front of the TV, cereal in their laps and eyes glued to the set. Fang sat on the opposite end of the couch, so I put my feet in his lap and held onto my side.

He looked at me funny, and pushed my feet off of his lap. I immediately put them back on and he glared at me.

"Just leave it alone," I said.

We watched TV in silence, the kids giggling or laughing on occasion of what was on the screen.

It was peaceful, despite the fact that it flet like someone was poing a hole in my side with a knife, over and over and over again. It wasn't a very pleasant feeling, let me tell ya.

Then Iggy decided to pop in. He stood in front of me and crossed his arms. "Max, I declare a r-"

"Iggy," I growled. "I'm not in the mood. My side hurts, my back hurts. Don't fuck with me."

He gasped. "Language!"

I glared at him and flipped him off, just in time for a seriouly sharp knife to stab into my side.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I said and pushed Iggy out of my way.

Fang POV

Me and the kids were in the living room, watching Dora, I think. Max came in and layed down on the couch, and put her feet on my lap. I wouldn't mind it from one of the kids, but Max's feet stunk_. Bad_.

So I gave her a look and pushed her feet off of my lap. Like clock work, she put her feet back on my lap and I glared at her. But I didn't push her feet off this time, because I had common sense and knew that they'd just go right back. And I'd push them off again, and she'd put them back, and it turn into a fist fight somehow.

We watched the TV, and this show is not just for kids. If Dora taught curse words, I'd be her biggest fan, t-shirt and all.

Alright, maybe not, but I'd make a point of watching her more often and see if I could tell Iggy to go to Hell in Spanish. It would be so much fun . . .

Speak of the Devil. I knew exactly what he was going to do. He was going to declare a rematch on Max. When we don't get the answer or result we want, we hurt you physically until you break. We're like the Mafia, but better.

I mean, we have_ wings. _We can _fly. _Now tell me the Mafia's better. Time to go to work . . .

Random: Martha Stewart is evil. I can feel it in my bones . . .

Back to the evilness that is not Martha Stewart. Iggy stood in front of Max and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Max, I declare a r-"

"Iggy," she growled, glaring at him unententionally. (Holy crap. I just used a word longer than the word 'word'. I'm smart!) "I'm not in the mood. My side hurts, my back hurts. Don't fuck with utme."

He gasped. "Language!"

She glared harder at him and flipped him off, and winced a second after. "I'm going to the bathroom," she said and walked down the hall.

Iggy sighed and fell down onto the couch.

We watched Dora for a minute. That is, until a scream came from the bathroom. It was louder than when Nudge saw a mouse in the kitchen, eating her sandwhich. On the counter. Yeah. Even I think that's kinda gross, and I'll eat anything.

Back to the scream that came from the bathroom. I was off of the couch and down the hall in a split second, and opening the door in another one. Two things were in my mind: Max. Erasers.

"What's wrong?" I screamed. Max was in the corner of the bathroom, a hand on her mouth, and pointing at the toilet.

"B-b-b-b," she stuttered and seemed to sink back further into the corner. I walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. No Erasers. Good sign.

Jeb walked into the bathroom and looked into the toilet. "Good Lord."

Third person POV

_Again? Seriously? I have to do this again? Suffer through this awkwardness again? God, shoot me now, _Jeb thought to himself.

He stood in the store _again. And this time I need ta- tam- tamp-_

"You again?" Betty's voice cut Jeb out of his failed attempt to think the word.

Jeb cleared his throat and nodded.

"Need something from the _woman's hiegene_?" she asked, a hand on her hip. She knew very well she wasn't supposed to call them tampons or pads because it "scared" the customers. Yeah. Right.

Jeb nodded again, too embarrassed to talk. His face felt as hot as Hell its self.

Betty sighed and picked two boxes off the shelf, and showed them to Jeb. "Which one?"

He shrugged, and blushed more.

"Just pick one," she said, irritated.

Jeb picked a box from her hand.

Betty smiled. Just a little smile, but a smile that said 'Thank the Lord.'

"I'll ring you up," Betty said and walked to the cash register. Jeb followed.

Betty rang up the _item _and Jeb paid for it. He was about to walk away, but Betty caught his arm and handed him a card. "If your daughter ever needs to . . . talk, tell her to call me."

Jeb nodded and took the card from her fingers and put it in his jean pocket. _Unlikely, _he thought to himslef, but took it to be a little nice.

Back at the house

Max POV

I was in my room, laying on my bed. I had already taken about eight advil. Nothing helped.

Jeb walked into my room and tossed me a box. I caught it with a skill that would make a baseball player so jealous he'd probably cry.

"What's this?" I aked and turned it over in my hand.

"Tampon," Jeb muttered.

"Um . . ." I said and looked at the back of Jeb's head.

"What, Max?" he asked, annoyance tinting his words.

"I have no idea what this is."

**More mention of women products in this chapter. Not much humor. But it's all part of puberty.**

**Tank: I am so glad you made me a teenager already.**

**Skid: As am I.**

**JP: How have I yet to barf while you write this story?**

**Me: Hmmm . . . strong stomach?**

**- Sanity**


	4. Chapter 4

**Zits, zits, zits. They stink. And Max has a conscience? Since when?**

**Max: Since you gave me one . . .**

**Me: Eh. You needed one.**

**Disclaimer: Wooooooooowwwww. How many times do I have to tell you? Do you have short-term memory loss or something? I don't own these transgenic organisms!**

I am so not going into detail of the horror that is a period. It's gross, and if you're a girl you already know what's happening. Guys: Don't even bother trying to understand it.

Jeb had gotten me this stuff that made the cramps dissapear, and it was like BAM. Cramps gone.

Anyways. I woke up happy as a clam. It was really weird. I had no idea why I was so happy, but whatever. Blame hormones.

I hopped out of bed and picked up the dirty t-shirts lying around the floor and put them in the hamper. Another landry day. Yet I was still happy.

I shrugged and put the hamper down. I really, really, had to pee. Walked to the bathroom. Caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Bursts into silent tears.

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? THE INFAMOUS MAXIMUM RIDE DOES NOT CRY. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU . . . YOU . . . PANSY! I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH YOU!

I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror again. I had tiny littel red dots all over my face. Great. Fan-freaking-tastic. Zits. That's all I needed to add to Max's Funhouse of Puberty. Zits. Pimples. Red devils that implant themselves onto your forehead. Whatever you want to call them. I prefer the latter. (Yeah, I just used that word. Blame the day Jeb made us the study the dictionary. I still have nightmares.)

I ran the water in the foucet, and splashed my face the cold water. Looked in the mirror again. Yep. There real. And some of them had little white or black heads on them.

"Ugh," I said. "That's really gross."

_Says the girl that ate a cockroach on a dare. _

_Hey! It was a challenge! I couldn't let Iggy win!_

_Whatever, babe. All I know is that cockroach tasted disgusting._

_Psh. You're telling me._

_But these zits _are _seriously gross. Sqeeze one, see what happens._

_No! I don't want to see gunk come out of my face!_

_Its a challenge, babe. Plus, you've seen worse._

_. . . Eh. Guess you're right._

_I'm always right._

I got closer to the mirror until my nose was almost touching it, and put two of my fingers in the position to sqeeze a white headed pimple. Just when I was about to squeeze the gunk out of it, I stopped.

Had I just been _talking to myself?_

Did I _call myslef babe?_

Did I _challenge mys_elf?

. . .

. . .

. . .

I'm insane. But, what the Hell? Might as well see what comes out.

Advice from maximum Ride: Never, ever, ever, _EVER_ sqeeze a pimple _EVER _again. Or EVER listen to that STUPID voice in the back of your head

It just hurts. A LOT. And makes the surrounding area of the pimple all red. AS A TOMATO. WHY ARE ALL MY THOUGHTS CAPITALIZED? I DON'T KNOW. I'LL STOP now.

Maybe I belong in a straight jacket. Maybe I should be put in padded room and they should throaw away the key.

"Max!" Fang yelled, pounding on the door. "Get out!"

"Shut up, Fang," I said and pulled open the door, and walked out with my head bowed. The last thing I needed was them knowing about the infestation going on in my face.

He raised an eyebrow, but walked into the bathroom and closed the door without uttering a word. Somethings been going on with him. He's been really quiet, never even talking for hours sometimes. He's always been quiet, but this . . .

I shoved it ito the back of my head and told myslef I'd get to it later.

_Not likely._

_Who exactly are you?_

_I'm your conscience._

_I didn't think I had one of those things . . . and aren't consciences suppose to lead me in the right direction?_

_Eh. We're half and half. _

_I take it when you told me to squeeze the pimple, it was your bad side showing._

_You got it._

I just had another conversation with my conscience. God, help me now.

I stayed in my room, fiddling with string or a Rubbix Cube. I'm a smart cookie. I would probably win the Genuis Book of World Records if I entered for fastest Rubbix Cube finisher. Yet, it still manages to entertain me.

"Max!" Jeb called. "Food's ready!"

Huh. I thought I was up here longer.

"I'm not going," I said.

I could practically here him roll his eyes. "You'll come in a little while."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," I said and redid the Rubix Cube.

However I hate to admit it, he was right. My stomach growled in protest when I tried to resist its pull towards the kitchen. My stomach was controlling my brain, ok? I didn't think it was possible either, but it happened.

I groaned and got off of my bed, and walked out of my room. Too hungry to resist . . . I walked into the kitchen, the hood of my hoodie up and my hands stuffed in my pockets.

"What ya make for breakfast?" I asked.

Jeb grinned from his spot at the table. "Pancakes," he said and looked up. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Don't say a word unless you want to die," I said and took my spot at the table, and forked some pancakes onto my plate.

"Say a word about what?" Iggy asked.

"Nothing," I said.

"Suuuurrrre, Max," he said, rolling his sightless eyes.

I flicked his head. He flicked mine. I poked his arm. He underestimated where my shoulder was and poked my boob.

I think that's considered sexual harrasment.

I slapped the back of his head. He slapped mine.

This went on for a while, until his fingertips brushed my face, and he felt all the little bumps there and screamed, "OH MY GOD, MAX IS A LEPOR!"

I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. I love being stronger than this guy. "I said not to say a word unless you want to die. Do you want to die?"

He gulped. "No."

"So, are you going to say anything else?"

"No," he croaked.

"Good," I said, releasing him. He rubbed his sore arm and tried to glare at me, but only managed to glare at Angel.

"Now, now, Iggy," I said. "Its not nice to glare at little kids. What did Angel ever do to you?"

He blushed and mumbled something I'd rather not repeat.

Sometimes, puberty is a btich. And others, it can really benefit you.

**Eh. It was alright.**

**Max: I still can't believe you gave me a conscience.**

**Me: Deal with it, babe.**

**Max: AH! Are you my conscience?**

**Me: No.**

**Tank: Thank God. Because if you were, the world would be a little . . . different.**

**Me: Chinese resturaunts at every turn!**

**Skid: Yep. That's different.**

**JP: At least all those unfortunet souls who lack shinese food would get some.**

**Me: At least someone gets the logic.**

**- Sanity**


	5. Curiosity Killed The Bird Kid

**This is going to be . . . interesting. What happens when Fang and Iggy get, ahem, curious and decided to go through Max's stuff?**

**Skid: THEY DIE!**

**Guys around the world: *gulp***

**Max: You better be scared. I have a baseball bat and wings!**

**Disclaimer: La-di-da, skippidy hop, oh no! I seem to have stumbled upon a disclaimer! What is such a thing? So the innocent young girl named Sanity picked up the box labled 'disclaimer' and opened it. In a flash of black light, she was changed into a sick minded, black loving, teenager who was evil to the center of her heart. Mwahahahahahahaha! she said. I will rule the world someday, but still don't own MR! DAMN DISCLAIMER!**

Fang

"Fang," Iggy said, elbowing me in the ribs. "Did you notice Max is acting really diferent lately?"

I nodded, remembered he couldn't see me, and said, "Yeah."

"Why you think that is?" he asked, walked to the recliner, and reclined it.

I shrugged. "I dunno."

"I bet it has something to do with her being a lepor," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "Dude. She's not a lepor."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure, whatever you want to believe." We sat in silence for a while.

Max and Jeb had disapeared in the car, like they did about once a week now. (If that's not really creepy, then I don't have wings. Which I do.) The kids were taking a nap in their rooms, and me and Iggy were watching some TV.

"Wanna go through her stuff?" Iggy asked.

I raised an eyebrow. "You do realize if we do that, she'll kill us."

He shrugged and got out of the chair. "I think it's worth the risk." He started to walk upstairs.

Might as well. Somehow, I'll get blamed along with him, then I'll deny it, and Max will beat me up more than Iggy for denying it. Either way, the crap gets beat out of me, so I might as well.

I followed him uothe stairs, and we walked to the end of the hall and stared at Max's door.

"You really want to do this?" I asked him.

The blind pyro nodded. "We need to get tothe bottom of this. Max might actually be _dying._"

I glared at him. He had scared the crap out of Max that day. I don't know why I cared so much, because on any other day I might have joined in on the fun. But not that day.

"Are you glaring at me?" he asked.

"Yeah," I responded.

"It's not working."

I sighed.

"Let's do this," he said and turned the knob on Max's door. That's it.

"Aren't you going to open it?" I asked.

"Fang," he said, looking at me.

"What?" I asked.

"What if it's _conatgious_?"

I slapped the back of his head. "Wimp."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Not."

"Are."

"Not."

"Are."

"Not."

I pushed him into the room, ending the arguement.

"Ah!" he yelled, falling to the ground.

I expected a trap of some sort to happen when we entered the room, like you see on all those cool ninja/spy movies. But nothing happened. Not. A. Thing. Silence. I swear I heard a cricket chirp.

The silence is almost as bad as a trap.

"Is an anvil swinging down to kill us by now?" Iggy asked.

"Nope," I said, popping the 'p'.

"Any other weapons swinging down to bring us to our doom?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

"Huh. I expected Max to be more prepared for something like this. SO SHE UNDERESTIMATED US!"

"Shh!" I hissed. "You'll wake the kids up."

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Let's get this over with," I said.

"What do we look through first?" he asked.

"Um . . . under her bed," I said and looked under the bed.

"Anything?" he asked and lifted up her pillows.

"Just dust bunnies," I replied.

"To her drawers!" he proclaimed.

I bit back my laughter. "Seriously, Iggy?"

He glared in my general direction, but didn't say anything. Instead, he walked over to the drawers and slammed into them. I couldn't help it. I laughed.

"Thanks, Fang," he said, rubbing his shin. "Laugh at the blind kid."

I shrugged. "Hey, you wanted to be treated equally."

"Let's just get this over with," he grumbled and open the first drawer. I walked up to him and looked in it.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Shirts," I said.

He opened the next one.

"Pants."

Next one.

"Wind breakers and a . . . kitchen knife?"

He looked slightly frightened. "Do you think she's gonna kill us in our sleep?"

I shook my head. "Nah. She's too nice."

Then it was down to the last drawer. The drawer Max said if I ever opened under any circumstance, I'd die slowly and painfully. She told Iggy the same thing. Along with the whole household.

"Should we?" I asked.

"I dunno . . . "

"I don't think we should."

"C'mon, Fang!" Iggy said, shaking my shoulders. "We need to! You with me?" He held up his fist.

I narrowed my eyes and made a fist of my own. "Let's do this." He grinned and we did a fist bump.

And I pulled open the last drawer.

"What's in there?" he asked.

"Underwear and . . ." I pulled the box out of the drawer. "Kotex?"

"What's that?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I saw it on TV once. Said something about having a 'happy period', whatever that is."

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Yeah . . ." I pulled out something that I had never seen before. "But I have no idea what it is."

"Good."

SHIT. NO, NO, NO, NO. THIS IS NOT GOOD. I'M GOING TO DIE. MAX IS GOING TO KILL ME. I'M GOING TO DIE.

Max

Jeb and I had just gotten back from those once a week talks I had been having with Betty about girls stuff. Soooo much better than the internet.

I grabbed the bag of stuff Betty had said would help with the cramps, get knots out of your hair unpainfully, and whatnot. I really didn't care, but if it really worked, it's much better than feeling like a bunch of needles being poked into my skull.

"I'm going put the stuff in my room," I told Jeb and walked into the house. I walked up stairs and down the hall, and found my door opened. Weird . . .

I walked into the room, and found Iggy and Fang kneeling over my bottom drawer. Which was open.

"Yeah . . ." Fang said, picking my bra up by the strap and holding it up for all the world to see. "But I have not idea what it is."

"Good," I said and put a hand my hip.

Panic flickered over their features and Iggy said nervously, "Heh-heh. Heeeey, Max."

"You're not going to hurt us . . . are you?" Fang asked.

I sighed and threw my bag onto my bed. I cracked my knuckles by flexing them. "You know what they say, Fang. Curiosity killed the bird kid."

**Tee-hee. I'm so evil. GAY FANG! Buddy! How was the date with Justin?**

**Gay Fang: TERRIBLE! He kept trying to sing me love songs! On a normal occasion, I would, like, love it. But I had to wear the polo top with the skinny jeans, with, like, these really ugly shoes. Nudge was busy. But Justine was awesome! We talked a lot and did our nails at the slumber party.**

**Tank: o.O Have you been talking to Call Me Bitter lately?**

**Me: Um . . . no . . . **

**JP: LIAR!**

**Gay Fang: And I was like, no way, and she was like, yeah way, and then we went out for mocha-capachinos.**

**Skid: *reaches for bowl of popcorn* Woah. This is betterthan cable.**

**RnR?**

**- Sanity and Gay Fang**


	6. Chapter 6

**So far, mostof this has just been humor, but since Max is twelve . . . we all know what happens. **

**Skid: It's going to be depressing.**

**JP: It has to be done.**

**Tank: There's going to be crying in this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: This is a depressing chapter, so it's going to be a depressing disclaimer. I don't own it, you don't own it, no one owns it.**

**JP: *cough***

**Me: But you don't count, because you're the creator. **

**JP: Ohhhh.**

Max

I had a weird feeling that morning. I don't know what it was, but it just didn't feel good. Like something was off . . .

Maybe it was because I woke up at five o'clock in the morning. Yeah. That must be it.

I tried to go back to sleep with no luck. Sometimes, I wake up at six in the morning, eight in the morning, twelve noon, and sometimes I wake up at five. And all those times, no matter how hard I try, you probably could hit a hammer to my head, I couldn't fall back asleep.

I sat up on my bed, the springs creaking. I walked to my drawers and pulled on some jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. I shoved my feet into my tennis shoes, which were a little snug. (I love using that word. It makes me laugh.) I'd have to tell Jeb that they were getting too small.

I walked out of the room and down the hall, down stairs, and into the kitchen. I walked past the table, and to the fridge.

I pulled it open, and a voice said behind me, "Want an apple?"

I whirled around and breathed out in relief. But then I walked to the table and slapped his arm. "Don't do that, Fang. You scared me." It was like he had blended right into the shadows of the early morning.

He put out a hand, which had an apple in it. See, I can see in the dark. Thanks to those wack-job scientists.

I accepted the apple and sat down at the table next to him. I bit into the apple and said around it, "Do you always wake up this early?"

Fang shrugged. "Sometimes. But I heard something moving, and it woke me up."

"Huh," I replied and bit into the apple again. "Good apple."

He nodded and bit into his own. We sat in comfortable silence for a while, chewing our food.

Finally, he said, "Happy birthday."

"Huh?" I asked, my brow scrunched up.

He grinned. "It's your birthday, dumb ass."

"Don't call me dumb ass," I warned him.

"Aw, don't I get some relieve for being the first person to wish you a happy birthday?" he asked, grinning.

"No," I said, shoving his shoulder. Being the gentleman he is, he shoved me back. I grinned and punched his shoulder. He punched mine. I punched him in the gut, a little more force in it. He returned it, glaring at me. I glared back and punched his shoulder again. This went on for, well, light started to come from the window.

"OUT!" Iggy yelled from the doorway of the kitchen. "I need to make something!"

Fang raised an eyebrow and punched my shoulder. "You mean Max's birthday cake?"

"Shh!" Iggy hissed. "She'll hear you!"

I punched Fang's shoulder. "I'm right here, dumb ass."

He glared at me. "Don't call me dumb ass."

"Why? You are one," Fang and I replied, and turned towards each other. "Jinx! Double jinx! Triple jinx-"

Iggy groaned. "I get it! Now get out." He pointed towards a wall.

"Um, Iggy? I can't walk throug walls yet," I said.

He did a face palm. "Just get out of the freaking kitchen."

I was about t so say something, when Fang grabbed my arm and towed me out of the kitchen. Despite how I was stronger than him, I couldn't get him to let me go. He wasprobably bruising my arm.

"Fang, let me go!" I said, pulling away.

He shok his head, and I just knew he was smirking. I wanted to slap it off his face. He walked to the front door, and towed me out.

I dug my sneakered feet into the ground, causing him to stop. "Fang. Let. Me. GO."

He shook his head and faced me. He pulled on my arm, and I pulled backwards. He eventually got me to move, my feet gragging the drass/dirt/whatever it was. But he got me moving. He dragged me over to the edge of the canyon, and threw me over.

Now, most of you who are probably thinking, 'What was that nut-jub thinking?' Well, I have a answer for that:

I glared at him, let myself fall for a moment, and whipped out my wings. It hurt, but not that much. I yelled over the wind, "You are _so _DEAD!"

He chuckled and jumped over the edge of the cliff himself, pulling out his completely black wings. "Ohhh, I'm so scared."

"You better be," I growled and launched myself at him. Fear flickered across his features, but he gave up on it, smirked, and shot into the sky. I chased after him, moving faster than I ever had. I was glaring at the back of his head, but my glare soon turned into a smile, and then laughter.

But I kept at it. He was RIGHT THERE. I reached out my arm, and tapped his foot. "You're it!" I yelled over the wind, turned around, and shot into the blue, blue sky.

We played air tag for a while **(A/N: That reminds me of a game Blue and another girl from my school has going on. It's painful, but someone has to do it.)**, and finally gave up when it ended in a fist fight. We have an . . . interesting relationship. _Not _that we're in a relationship. God, no! I could never imagine something like that! I mean, I love him, but like a brother, or a really annoying younger cousin who I happen to be best friends with. But we beat the crap out of each other for fun. What do you mean, that isn't normal? It's perfectly normal if you're a mutant freak, like us!

We landed on the edge of the canyon, and I resisted the urge to push him off when he folded in his wings, and put on his wind breaker. _That would be MURDER, Max,_ I told myself. Or was it my conscience? I could never tell the difference these days.

We walked into the house, and I was attacked by flying kids. They weren't really flying, but they might as well have been. A nine-year-old with untamable hair, along with an untamable voice box, got to me first.

"Max! Happy birthday! Where were you? Did you go out flying? Oooooohhhhhh, I wanna go flying. But first I want to eat some cake. Don't you want to eat cake? Iggy's cake is the BEST, even though I haven't eaten that many other cakes. But still, I bet no one's cake could ever get better than Iggy's. It's awesome. It's really chocolatey, or velvety, or whatever-y. What kind of cake do you think he's makeing this time? I hope it's vanilla. I really like vanilla. I wonder why that is? You'd think-"

"Nudge, sweety, why don't you go see what type of cake Iggy's making?" I suggested.

"Good idea, Max!" she said,and grabbed Angel's hand. "C'mon, Angel!" They ran off to the kitchen, and I turned to Gazzy, who was playing with a toy car. "Where's Jeb?"

He shrugged. "He hasn'tcome out yet." Of course, he had just lost one of his front teeth, so it sounded more . . . I dunno, but not the same. I cleaned it up for you. You're so special.

"Thanks. I'll wake him up," I said, and walked up the stairs, and turned to the first door on the right. I opened it, and peered in. "Hello? Jeb? You in here?"

No answer. I opened the door all the way, and frowned. Jeb wasn't in his bed. Meh. He must have gone get food or something. I had noticed we were running low.

I shrugged, and walked back downstairs. "He must have gone grocery shopping or something," I told Gazzy, who completely ignored me and continued to play with the car.

I sat down on the couch, and waited for the Iggy signal, A.K.A, him yelling, "Another masterpiece, by yours truly!"

I rolled my eyes, got off of the couch, and walked to the kitchen. Iggy stood in front of a large, rectangular cake, which was practically smothering in all the chocolate icing.

"Woah," I said. "That's a . . . big cake, Iggy."

He grinned at the cake. "Well, we didn't need the disaster we had last year. When there wasn't enough to go around . . ."

I flinched, remembering. It had all ended with Nudge having a brokan rib, Fang a sprained ankle, and Iggy with a broken nose, thanks to yours truly. He was trying to steal my cake! No one steals my food. Grrr. Stay away from my food. You'll get abroken nose.

"I think we should for Jeb," Angel said from beside me. I grinned and picked her up, putting her on my hip.

"That is a great idea, Ange," I said and tapped her nose with my pointer finger.

The problem with that plan was that we got hungry at about seven. At night. The cake slowly deteriorated, leaving only a piece of cake behind for Jeb.

Fang

Max was thinking hard this time. It was about one in the morning, and Jeb still wasn't back yet. Max stood up from the recliner, and walked to the window.

"Kids," she said. "Time for bed."

To my surprise, they all stood up from their spots around the living room and walked to their rooms. But not Angel. She was out cold.

"Iggy, take Angel to her room," I said.

"B-" he started to protest, but I cut him off.

"Go."

He nodded, walked to the recliner where she laid, and picked her up. He disapeared down the hall. I walked next to Max and looked at the sky.

"A lot of stars tonight," I said, just to break the silence. And that's coming from me.

"Fang," Max said, her voice cracking. "I don't think he's coming back this time."

Alright. Max's voice _cracked. _Max doesn't cry. EVER. But now she was. And it was all Jeb's fault.

"Max," I said. I was going to say more, but she tackled me into a hug. It was . . . nice. Alright, I did not just say that. But I did.

I wrapped my arms around her as she cried onto my shoulder. It was barely crying, but it was something. I completely ignored the fact that it was just _right _for her to be in my arms.

**Awww. That was sweet.**

**Max: I can't believe you made me cry . . .**

**Fang: I can't believe you mademe that mushy . . .**

**Skid: I'm with you.**

**JP: It could work.**

**Tank: I can't believe you're not throwing up at how muchy that last sentence was . . .**

**Me: Wait for it.**

- **Sanity**


	7. Chapter 7

**This is part two in one of What Happens When Max Hits Puberty? I'd like to thank Oh My Cookies123 for the inspiration. I didn't want to make it two completely different parts, 'cause I already have an awesome ending for the story. Not now.**

**But in this one, the guys hit puberty. Oh, yeah. **

**Tank: God, if you're listening, please help them. **

**Me: *glares* As I was saying, the boys' puberty will be in segments, 'cause I'm cool like dat.(You'll understand soon enough.)**

**JP: Suuuuuuure you are.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these guys. I like talking to you, Fan fiction, but if you keep asking me if I own this, I might have to stop talking to you**.

I knew it would happen someday. It was obvious it_ would _happen, since it happened to me, but I was just hoping it wasn't going to be this day. What happened, you ask. It's tragic. It's terrible. I hate it. Iggy can't shut up about it.

Iggy's taller than me. And it's his birthday. He said, "I bet I'm stronger than you, too."

"Whatever, Iggy," I said and stuffed a piece of vanilla ice cream into my mouth. It's been about three months since Jeb left - or was killed. I suspect the last one. But Fang and I go into a near by town about once or twice a month to get food, since we can pass for about fourteen or fifteen, which is just really awesome.

"Hey, Fang?" Iggy asked. "Do you think I could beat Max up?"

Fang looked at me, looked at Iggy, and said, "No. She'd kill you before you could land a punch."

I admit it. I smiled. It was nice to hear such pleasant words, especially from him. he had been really nice to me since Jeb . . . left. We have yet to get into a fist fight, just plenty of verbal ones. I haven't broken one of his bones yet, neither has he mine, which is just awesome because usually I can't go a week without throwing a punch at his face.

"Dude!" Iggy said. "Bros before hos!"

That was what sent me over the edge of the canyon. Not really, but whateverly. (I couldn't think of the word, alright?)

"And in what universe am a 'ho'?" I asked Iggy, giving him **THE EYES OF DOOM (TRADE MARK SYMBOL)**.

Yep. I didn't give him The Eye. Nooooo. I gave him **THE EYES OF DOOM (TRADE MARK SYMBOL)**,the look even the blind guy knew. It was a look you never question, you don't want, and if you do, you'll turn into a puddle of mush. It's a look that sends cold shivers down your spine, and scares you half to death.

But Iggy somehow said, "It's a figment of speech, Max."

"You still said it," I said. This was going to lead to a fist fight or something . . .

And I'm always right. Well, most of the time. Besides that one time when I had said, 'It's gonna rain tonight.' It didn't rain. But it raised the next morning, so I took that to my advantage. But that's not the point.

Fist were flying in the yard in about five minutes. That's actually long on our standards. Most of the time, it takes about ten seconds for him to have a fist in his face, and then another two minutes for us to make it outside. Jeb had always said, 'If you're going to kill each other, do it outside. I just cleaned.'

I got all of the phlegm out of the back of my throat (Not as gross as it sounds.) and spit out on the grass. It came out red.

Before puberty, Iggy and I had been equal oponets, along with Fang. Then, I hit puberty, and I could take them on, easy. But now? We were equal oponets again, and he might be a little bit stronger than me. But just a little bit.

"Give up, Max," he spat.

"Never," I growled and glared at him. I fainted left, and he took the bait. Instead of going left, I went right and slammed into his side. Of course, he was half expecting it 'cause of the super acute hearing. So, instead of hitting his ribs, I got him in the front, tackling him to the ground. It worked out well, sort of. I was stradling him, with his hands above his head.

"I win," I growled. My nose was barely an inch away from his, and I was glaring into his sightless eyes.

Then he did the unthinkable: He. Spit. In. My. EYE. THAT IS DISGUSTING. So, of course, Ijumped off of him saying, "Oh, God, it BURNS!" C'mon. It was Iggy spit. IGGY. SPIT. It's like camel spit, but worse.

So, being that I had jumped off of him, the wrestling/fist fight match was still on. And I didn't stand a chance with his spit. IN. MY. EYE. In under a minute, he was on top of me, my hands above my head.

"I win this time," he said, smirking. I squirmed, but couldn't get him off of me for my life.

Then I remembered. "Not yet," I said, smirking.

A look of confusion passed his face, then pain. I had kneed him where it counts. My arms were free, while he was - ahem - clutching his crotch. Yep. That is as gross as it sounds.

Anyways, once my hands were free, I balled my hand into a fist and punched him right in the lip, splitting it open. He fell off of me and onto the ground, moaning in pain. He knows not to mess with me again,most likely.

I flew off of the ground - figmentally, not literally - and dusted off my knees. I walked across the yard, past the kids who were watching the whole thing from the sky, past Fang who was on the roof, and into the house. I stormed past the living room, and into the bathroom, adrenaline still in my veins from the fight with Iggy.

I slammed the door shut, lockedit, and leaned against it. I wasn't so much as pissed at Iggy than I was at _Jeb_. How could he just leave us like this? Just leave us to take care of ourselves? Yes, we were very indipendent, and could do things ourselves, but what happened when we ran out of money? When we ran out of food? Steal? I could do that, but steal enough to feed all of us? Who ate more than twenty calories a day? I don't think a few canned goods would cover it.

Then I realized I had been fighting with Iggy just to blow off unused steam. To get all the anger and shit out of me.

I gathered my hair into my hands and realized how much of it I had. It was almost to my waist. I made a sound that could be identified as 'ugh', stood up, left the bathroom. I didn't even notice how the light had been off in the bathroom the whole time. I walked into the kitchen and took out a kitchen knife. I gathered my hair in my hands, put it slightly to the side, and just when I was about to chop it off, Fang's voice said, "What are you doing?"

I jumped an almost dropped the knife. "Don't do that, walnut brain. You scared me."

"What are you doing?" he asked again.

"Chopping my hair off, wanna help?" I asked sarcastically.

"Why?" he asked.

"Not?" I replied.

"Why?" Him.

"Not?" Me.

"Why?" Him.

"Not?" Me.

"This is getting nowhere," he said, glaring at me.

"So? Are you going to help me chop thisbig blob of hair off or what?" I asked.

He sighed, and tookthe knife fro my hands. "I guess."

I turned around, Fang gathered my hair in his hands, and put the knife under it. SLICE. And my head was so much lighter.

**Not the best chapter . . . Anyone like to tell me where the copyright thing is? Thanks.**

**JP: They probably won't tell you.**

**Skid: JP, think positive.**

**Tank: How do you two live together?**

**Me: I dunno. Good sense of humors?**

**JP: Ha! Good one.**

**- Sanity**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'd like to thank Me (No, not me me, but Me, the reviewer who- ugh. You know who you are.) who pointed out the whole 'feint' 'faint' thing. I fixed it . . . I think. And being knit-picky isn't always a bad thing. I've done my share of it.**

**JP: But not in your own chapters, is it?**

**Me: Oh, shut up.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson, or Jesus. I'm working on the first two, but I'd like to not own the third.**

**Jesus: Whatchya problem with me?**

**Me: Notin'.**

**Jesus: Mm-hm.**

Max

I had to resist the urge to burst out laughing. I had to bite my tongue, bite my lip, and bite my cheek all at the same time to keep from doing so, and all three were bleeding soon. I looked down at my cereal, looking at the Cinnamon Toast Crunchy-ness of it, but it still didn't help my condition.

The kids didn't have the same self control as me. Gazzy, Nudge, and Angel were giggling up a storm, pointing at it. It was just . . . huge. Right there, glaring at us like a huge irritated, gunky, red dot. And it rested right on Fang's forehead, obvious to anyone a couple hundred miles away.`

"What's so funny?" Iggy asked from the bottom of the stairs. I looked up, and this time I couldn't help myself. I burst out laughing.

Fang had a huge, irritated white head on his forehead, and Iggy had many, many, many red zits all over his face. He usually so-pale-almost-albino skin was more red than white, and Fang. . . . It was hard to tell which was worse.

"You," Fang said, smirking.

"You're one to talk," I said, and pointed at the zit on his forehead.

He glared at me. "Whatever, Miss Leper." OMG (Yep. I totally just invented that. It will now be copy righted.) he just rhymed!

I glared back. "Touche." I took a last spoon full of cereal, stood up, and said to Fang, "C'mere."

"No," he said.

"Why not?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Because I said so."

"Just come here for a second."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No."

"Yes."

"HA!"

"Will you two stop flirting?" Iggy asked.

Fang and I both glared at him and yelled, "We're not flirting!"

"Yes, you are," Iggy argued.

"What's flirting?" Nudge asked, looking at me with her wide, chocolate eyes, filled with curiosity. I looked away and continued to glare at the blind mutant bird kid with wings.

"Tell you when you're earlier," I said in her general direction.

She huffed. "Well, then I'll add this to my 'Max'll tell me when I'm older' list." She sighed, stood up, and washed her bowl of cereal in the sink, which was piled high with dishes. "C'mon,Angel, let's go play barbies or something."

"M'kay," Angel said, and grasped Nudge's hand. They jumped up to their room, giggling on the way about something I didn't know if I wanted to hear.

I looked at Fang, who was now digging the kitchen cabinet for some type of chocolaty cereal, no doubt. But we were running low. "Ready to go?"

"Where?" he asked and pulled a box of Reese's out, opened it, and sniffed. Satisfied, he pulled a bowl out of another cabinet. I was shocked we even had a clean one.

"The store, dumb ass," I replied. "We need food. Well, and dish detergent, but food first."

He nodded. "Yeah, sure, whatever. But I'm eating first."

"Good. I don't need you passing out from hunger in me."

The Store

I just realized something. Well, two things, really. One) I was running out of pads, and my period was coming soon. (Yep. That is very gross. I'm sorry you had to suffer that.) and two) there was a girl that worked here that had the hugest crush on Fang. I'm pretty positive we're about half way through thirteen now, and Fang looked about fifteen, even with the super long samurai hair. I looked sixteen, too, but Fang was now about two or three inches taller than me. But the girl had a crush on Fang . . . and he had that absolutely huge zit on his forehead.

Oh, yes. This is going to be _sweet. _

So we were walking down a random isle, and I dumped some cerial product into the cart, and said, "I'll be back."

"Hmm," Fang said, and got a random product off the shelf, dumping it into the cart. I pulled the hood of my - you got it - hoodie up, stuffed my hands into my pockets, and walked to "woman hygiene". I hate doing this.

Fang

I had no idea where Max was, which was a good thing and a bad thing. The good part? She wasn't busy annoying me, which is one of her favorite past times besides flying. The bad thing? An Eraser could have jumped out at her, covered her mouth with a finger nail polish remover covered cloth, and knocked her out - or killed her. Even if she annoys the Hell out of me, she's my best friend. We have those moments like we can talk with out eyes, and we know we're in the same zone, and then those that are like 'I hate you, I never want to see you again!' and then the one that's like ' . . . Yeah, we cool.'

Two completely different people, and we think so much alike.

I ran down isle after isle, forgetting the cart. I actually almost ran past the isle she was on thinking 'What on Earth would Max need down here?'

I'll spare you the details. After the whole thing, I was thoroughly grossed out on several different levels. But I managed to hide the grossness through several layers of face masks, only showing the mild grossed out part.

"Yeah . . ." Max said. "I had the same reaction."

"Disgusting," I said.

"Painful," she replied.

"Enough," I said, hoping she would stop.

"Alright."

"Wha?" I was shocked. She would usually keep going just to piss me off.

"Want me to keep going?" she asked, smirking.

"No," I rushed out.

"Then let's go pay for the food."

"Sounds good."

Max

I love revenge. Don't you like revenge? Revenge is a sweet, sweet thing. Ok, so Fang might not exactly deserve this revenge, because it's just . . . so _perfect. _The timing is just impossibley awesome.

But my conscience decided to act up again, this time it's Angel coming out.

_Max, this is wrong. You know it's wrong._

_Uh-huh, sure it is._

_Max . . ._

_Yes, Conscience?_

_This might come back to bite you in th_e _ass._

_Mm-hm. Sure._

_You're not listening to me, are you?_

_Mm-hm. Sure._

_UGH._

I grinned, and pushed the cart to the cash register where the girl - Jessica, I think - who had the huge crush on Fang was working. My grin turned into a Cheshire cat grin. Sweet, sweet revenge.

Fang was lagging behind me, obviously debating in his head the chances of running without me killing him afterwards. The chances weren't too good, obviously, since he was still there when I was paying for the food with some of Jeb's old money.

And then she saw him. At first, a smile lit Jessica's (I was right!) face like it usually did, but then . . .

"Gah!" she said, jumping not-so-slightly.

I was grinning a grin the would make the Cheshire cat jealous of my awesome, kick ass, bad ass, grin.

_*flashback*_

_Fang and me were just checking out, when it happened. The girl who was checking us out was in fact checking Fang _out_. It was . . . so. Freaking. Weird. It's like if some random girl on the street starts to check out your younger brother, and he _knows it. _It was weird._

_But something was bubbling in the pit of my stomach. Like a volcano about to erupt. But a volcano with a ginormous metal cap on it, that's bolted to the said volcano that has been mentioned many times. _

_I paid the girl, out all t bags into the cart, and said, "C'mon, F-Toni."_

_Fang raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. he took the basket, pushed it out of the store, and said, "Seriously? Toni? Do I look like a Toni?"_

_I snickered. "Whatever, _Toni, _whatever." We went behind the store, grabbed about ten bags each - which only seemed to weigh a pound - and shot into the sky. _

_"So what did you think of the girl?" I asked, ignoring that bubbling in my stomach again. What the Hell was it?_

_"What girl?" he asked._

_I rolled my eyes. "Oh, come _on, _Fang. She was totally checking you out."_

_"That's her job," he said, rolling his eyes._

_I gasped. "Her job is to flirt with random guys? NO _WAY!"

_Fang rolled his eyes. _

_"Ignore the obvious. Fine with me, Toni."_

_We flew the rest of the way home in silence._

_*End the awesomeness that is flash-backing*_

"H-hi, Toni," Jessica said and lowered her gaze to the cash register, and mouth 'Oh my god' to herself, but I saw it.

I snickered, and Fang glared at me for giving him the name 'Toni'. But probably for snickering, too. What? I couldn't help myself. Not muh self control with my mouth, and I wasn't in the mood to make my lip or some other body part bleed.

She started to check our things out quickly, unlike how she usually did. It was usually really slow, and she flirted with Fang like crazy.

We come about twice a month, and get a lot when we do, but you should have seen this girl. It was quicker tan lightning, and she took the money so fast I'd think she'd miscount or something.

She handed me my change, I stuffed it into my pockets, and she said, "Have a nice day." It sounded more like 'havaniay', but I guessed that was what it interpreted to.

I pushed the cart out of the store, looked at Fang, and laughed. "Did you see the look on your face?" I asked him.

Fang glared at me. "It wasn't that funny, Max."

"Aw," I said best baby in my. "Someone sad that their first crush gave them the cold shoulder?"

"Who said she was my first crush?" he asked.

"Who did you have a crush on?" I asked teasingly. "Angel?"

It never occured to me that it might have been me.

**Yeah, I know this chapter sucked. I blame my English teacher, Youtube, and the color math. **

**Oh, and Blue, who keeps calling me a lesbobitch. But besides that, I'm having a good week.**

**Later.**

**Skid: Adios.**

**JP: See ya.**

**Tank: Bye.**

**- Sanity**


	9. Chapter 9

**This is the last chapter. It's depressing, ending a story. But it must be done. So, goodbye. If you don't like my ending, PM me what you think it should have been or whatever. I'll put an extra chapter up, just for you guys.**

**JP: I'll miss this story . . . it was funny.**

**Tank: I like all the stories, mainly. But the endings are always depressing. Kind of like the ending of your favorite book series.**

**Skid: At least there's some Fax in this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I'm not even going to put up a fight. I don't own Maximum Ride . . . **

Anne's house

"Max, wake up!" Angel yelled and pushed my shoulder.

"Go away," I grumbled.

"Max, it's time for school!" she persisted.

"All the more reason to go back to sleep," I mumbled and pulled the comforter over my head.

She sighed and said lightly, "Don't make me get Fang . . ."

I grunted. "Whatever . . ." I mumbled and closed my eyes. My 'whatever' sounded more like 'waheva', but I blame the till three a.m midnight flight I had last night, or really early this morning.

I heard Angel yell from the hallway, "Fang! Max won't wake up!"

"So?" he yelled back.

"Come wake her up!" Angel yelled back.

I groaned. "Don't," I said, but doubted he could hear me.

About three minutes later, someone poked my side, and it hurt. "Max, wake up," Fang said.

"No," I grumbled. "Leave me alone."

"We have to go to scho-ool," he said.

I pulled the covers away from my head and looked at him. "What?"

"We ha-ave to go to scho-ool," he said, and then his eyes widened a fraction. My smile didn't just widen a fraction. It widened _a lot. _

No, Fang didn't sing those three words. Want to guess what happened? Go on, guess. You know you want to . . . Yep. You got it. His voice cracked.

I snickered, and he glared at me. "It's not fu-unny, Ma-ax."

I laughed. "Yeah it is."

"No, it's no-ot," he said, glaring. But it wasn't a very good glare since he was clearing his throat.

"It kinda is, Toni," I said, using his other fake name. "Or is it Nick? I can never remember these days . . ."

He stopped clearing his throat and glared at me. "Just get dressed."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, fine, whatever. But it's still funny. Now get out, so I can change."

He left, and I got off of the bed and grabbed my school clothes. Ugh . . . school. It's even worse because I have to wear a skirt. Ugh. I changed into it, the dress shirt, and jacket we had to wear. It was stupid, really. Why did I have to wear a skirt? The guys don't have to wear skirts. Why can't I wear the pants? It would make life so much easier for everyone.

I sighed and walked out of the room, and downstairs where everyone was gathered in the kitchen.

"Morning, Max," Anne said, smiling. "Sleep well?"

I grunted and made myself a cup of coffee. I chugged it, and had a burst of energy from the caffeine. I buttered some toast and stuffed it into my mouth.

"Ready, Max?" Anne asked, and I nodded, though my stomach growled in protest.

"Max," Angel said, giggling. I smiled, knowing what she meant.

"Sure," I said.

Anne raised an eyebrow and said, "Everyone in the car."

You guys know I don't do well with the whole 'tight spaces and car' thing. But we've been doing this for about a week now, and I was getting used to be in a car, which I hated. Why should I, the girl who has wings and has the whole sky as her limit, be getting used to a car? I shouldn't even be here, really. I don't know what I should be doing, but that should be it. Actually, I should still be in Colorado, flying until it felt weird to walk, or making fun of Fang. Well, I was doing the last one, but that's not the point.

"Shotgun," I said, and got into the front passenger seat of the black SUV. Cliche much, Anne? Anne got into the drivers seat, and everyone else in the back. Wait. Just wait.

I put my feet on the dashboard, and waited for Anne to say something like she always did.

Right about . . . Now . . .

"Max, put your legs down," she said, low enough for only me to hear. If we were all human. But we're not.

"Why?" I asked. "My shoes are clean." I never said I was honest.

"Yeah, but passing cars can see up your skirt," she continued.

"I'm wearing shorts, Anne. I'm not stupid." I heard Iggy snicker. "Fang? Do you think I'm stupid?" Like I give a shit. But it's all part of the plan, so play along.

He glared at me, and kept silent.

"Well?" I asked, and held back my laughter. If I annoyed him enough, he'd have to say something. And then his voice would crack. It was a perfect plan. So maybe it wasn't fool-proof, but it was good enough for me.

"No," he said.

"No what?" I asked.

"No, I don't think you're stu-upid," he said, and glared out of the window.

Gazzy, Iggy, Nudge, me, and Angel snickered. But when Iggy snickered, his voice cracked _too. _It's like double doody here. Hee-hee.

Yeah, I just laughed at the word doody. I'm immature, loud, annoying, a smart ass, and will possibly one day end up in juvie which I will then break out of . . . but I'm FUN.

You all know what happens when a guys voice cracks, right? Well, just in case: It first starts out normal, and then it sky rockets to a high point. It falls low again, and then goes normal. Then they have an odd sensation to clear their throat, and it happens all over again. And this all happens in about thirty seconds.

School

I met up with JJ, who was at her locker. I looped my arm through hers and said in a sweet voice, "Would you like to be my partner in crime"

She eyed me. "Am I going to be killing anyone?"

"No."

"Robbing a bank?"

"Nope."

"Kidnapping some sucky singer and torturing him till he begs for mercy?"

I was kind of worried about her now. "No."

"Bummer," she said, then smiled. "Then sure thing, dahling. What are we doing?"

"Embarassing my brothers," I said.

And evil little grin crept onto her face. "Perfect."

We walked to the office, and I asked the secretary, "Can I sign someone up to do the Pledge of Allegiance?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You? You, Max Ride, want to say the Pledge of Alegiance?"

I smiled at her, but it was the smile that said 'Watch it'. "No. My brothers."

She gave me a look over her glasses. "What's your angle? Want to humiliate them in some way?"

I put a hand over my heart in shock and 'gasped'. "_Me?_ Want to publicly humiliate my brothers so they're scarred emotionally and mentally? No way!"

"Mm-hm," she said, and handed me a clip board. "You're in luck. We were just going to grab a random student out of the hall and make them say it."

I smiled at her. "Thanks." I scribbled down 'Nick Ride' in the best Fang-like handwriting I could manage, which was pretty close. My handwriting isn't bubbly or swirly like almost every other girl out there. It's more like chicken scratch.

"Write James' name down," I told JJ.

"Why?" she asked.

"So it doesn't look like two people wrote it if they see this." I turned to the secretary. "They won't see this, right?"

"Hmm . . ." she said. "That depends . . ."

I sighed and dug in my ratty book sack. "Um . . . I've got about five dollars and a peppermint?"

"Good enough," she said and took the money and candy I handed her. "Your brothers will never hear of this."

I smiled at her. "Good." I looped my arm through JJ's, and we left the office, heads held high, but giggling like school girls. Waitasecond.

First period

On the board, out English teacher had written today's assignment. Write a letter to your parents expressing your feelings towards them.

I sighed, and pulled out my notebook.

_Dear test tube . . ._

Then the announcements came on. And so did Fang. And let's just say on every vowel, his voice cracked and broke and he cleared his throat about thirty times. I snickered through the whole thing, classmates doing the same.

Finally, the Pledge ended, and we had to do our project. Wanna hear my letter?

_Dear test tube, _

_I hate you._

_Love, Max._

I'm such a poet. I handed in my letter. The teacher scanned it, gave me a look, and sighed. I went back to the seat I have I sat in class, doodling on my arm/hand/any revealed skin for a while. It looked like I had tattoos. Awesome tattoos. Huh. I'm a pretty good artist.

The bell rang, and I got out of the class and into the crowded hallway. JJ was just behind me, so I put my hand behind my back for her to slap in a make-shift high five. She slapped my hand, and we went to class.

Home

I was walking down the hall to the kitchen from my room, when Fang caught up to me.

"That was lo-ow, Max," he said, and cleared his throat.

"Why, dearest Fang, what are you speaking of?" I asked in false innocence. It made me sick.

"You know da-amn well wha-at I'm talking abou-ut."

"Woah," I said. "Three voice cracks in one sentence. Must be a record."

He glared at me. "Shu-ut up, Ma-ax."

I snickered again. "Bu-ut it's so ha-ard." That did sound dirty to everyone else, right? That would make me feel so gutter-ish.

He pushed me against the wall. "I sa-aid," he said, his voice cracking one last time, "I said to shut. Up."

His voice was deep now. Like, really deep. And it was so freaking _sexy_.

. . .

. . .

. . .

Wait, what?


End file.
